


Breath of Life

by spaceflame



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Slow Burn, Stranded, Torture, i'll add more tags as the fic progresses ayy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 04:50:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceflame/pseuds/spaceflame
Summary: Chaos ensued at a fast rate when the wormhole had been compromised, spiraling angry shades of reds and purples blistering through the viewport. The force of being sucked out of the castle ship and hurled into space was disorienting, and even more so with everyone’s screams congesting the intercom.





	

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever shieth fic oml this one's going to be embarrassing AH AH  
> enjoy!~

Chaos ensued at a fast rate when the wormhole had been compromised, spiraling angry shades of reds and purples blistering through the viewport. The force of being sucked out of the castle ship and hurled into space was disorienting, and even more so with everyone’s screams congesting the intercom.

“Shit!” Keith clenched his teeth, tightly closing his eyes in order to prevent himself from going nuts at the red emergency lights that strobed inside his lion. He dared to open an eye slightly, as he made a grab for the control sticks in front him in an attempt to control his lion. It had no effect, a useless try that only made him panic more.

“Fuck! Come on!” He growled, and then was greeted with the intercom spewing back blaring static that made him feel like he was going to lose it. 

Then his eyes caught a glimpse of the Black Lion, Shiro, whirling his way towards him before he was back to watching blends of hot colors again. The quick sight of something recognizable in such a moment of confusion made him call his name out with vigor, forgetting that the intercom system had died out on him.

“Shiro! SHIRO!” Keith panicked when he couldn’t see Shiro anymore, and even more so when his lion jolted backwards at even more force from the sudden shift of environment. He was grateful that his body was practically glued to his seat prior to, otherwise the severe whiplash from that would have been lethal. 

The wormhole had thrown Keith into a dark blue atmosphere, a dusty red planet fast approaching. On impact onto the first atmospheric layer, his lion had accumulated a thin layer of heat, causing panic to spread once again.

“No, no, no!” Keith scrambled to play around with the controls, thrusting the control sticks vigorously. At this rate, he and his lion would turn into a fireball if he didn’t cease his lion from free falling somehow.

The high energy levels of the wormhole must’ve neutralized the lion’s own energy, because now that he wasn’t in that wormhole, his lion was still unresponsive. This resulted in nothing more than a limp vessel propelling downwards at a fast velocity, along with a helpless paladin who could do nothing more but hope that his lion would come online again. 

_But it never did._

  


Keith stirred from his slumber, finding himself face-down on the cold floor of the cockpit. His world was sideways, his head pounding distortion into his sight. He remained this way until his mind caught up to his current situation at hand.

_‘Wormhole. Red. Loud. Danger. Crashing. Shiro.’_  

“Shi...ro…” Keith croaked, feeling his body experience waves of quivers as sharp pain stirred at the bottom of his stomach and then shot up his system. “Fuck…” He winced, his eye twitching as he tried to force himself up.

But he could tell that the inside was pretty much left unscathed, with the exception of emergency packs scattered across the floor nearby him. Not only that, but he could tell that his lion had landed on its back, so with gravity, it was a given that unsecured items like that would bust out of the cabinets. 

The viewports, the lion’s sight, was basically blocked by rubble of some sort. Keith didn’t have the time nor strength to decipher what it was, but it prevented most of the light from entering the cockpit. Truth be told, it was the dim lighting that had soothed him back into unconsciousness, tearing him away from his painful state.

  


Keith resurfaced, painfully taking in a whiff of oxygen due to his body suddenly forgetting to breathe on its own. He swiftly rolled onto his back, his chest heaving in order to regain as much oxygen into his system as he could.

Everything was _hot_ , as though he were in a sauna. Sweat trickled down his forehead, the tips of his hairs sticking to his neck and face. It probably didn’t help that he was still wearing his helmet—only his limited strength was in the way of taking it off. Nothing had to be said in regards to what was happening underneath his armor, because at this point, he felt slick underneath his paladin suit due to his own sweat. It was all disgusting, causing him discomfort to the point where he tried forcing himself up again from his sad state.

“One...two...thr-” At three, Keith successfully heaved himself up, gripping the nearest surface for support. He felt his arm waiver at all the pressure placed upon it, but even so, he pushed through. The sooner that he could get himself moving, the sooner he’d get out of this oven, and the sooner he’d find the others.

The sooner he’d find Shiro.

Keith recalled the Black Lion flying at his direction, his eyes widening in shock that Shiro could very well be nearby. Of course, he didn’t exactly see where Shiro’s lion flew off to, but it wasn’t foolish to hope even a little, right? It’s all Keith had, at this point. 

Hope. 

A shaky hand was placed on the wall of his lion, acting like a guide as he made his way towards the emergency exit on the opposite end. Looking around, everything was definitely different when the perspective was shifted like this. That somewhat made it difficult to maneuver his way down the vessel, feeling as though this were the first time he was inside his lion.

The amount of light would further decrease the farther he’d travel away from the viewport, building frustration.

“Stay calm and think…” Keith took in a mild, deep breath, looking around for possible solutions. Nothing in here would possibly emit light, considering the entirety of his lion’s power system was dead. Nothing except…

“I got it!” Keith retraced his steps, a strand of hope flashing before his eyes when his sight falls upon the emergency packs scattered across the floor. _‘There’s got to be a flashlight in here or, or-’_

There was a First-Aid Kit, containers of non-perishable food, water, and an object that he quickly recognized as the Altean version of a flashlight. It was a skinny, rod-shaped light, resembling a glow stick, if Keith was being honest. A really high-tech Altean glow stick that could probably power an entire neighborhood.

Walking up to the emergency exit with clarity and ease this time, he placed his light down next to him as he went to go pry the door open.

Keith mustered up all the physical strength his body had and applied it to the cold, metallic door handle. The door felt as though it weighed _tons_ , feeling seemingly impossible to push open.

“C-come on…!” He growled, cursing for not being at his prime state. _'I know I can open this stupid door! I've done it in drills! So why the hell does it not want to open?!'_

Thoughts of Shiro possibly being endangered or injured right now shot through his mind, and such a small setback like this one made him even more determined to get this door open. He couldn’t afford to lose more precious time.

With one hard kick, the door gave out slightly, opening just enough to let a small ray of light in. However, that was as far as the door went, becoming apparent that there must’ve been rubble that had accumulated against it.

“Not a problem,” Keith coached himself, convincing himself that this was a simple task when it had proven difficult from the get-go. Standing back again, he delivered kicks with sufficient force behind them to budge the door open. When the door was opened just enough, Keith slid his body through it with ease.

Keith was welcomed with a wall of rubble around his lion and himself, so it prompted him to do the obvious: climb. He scaled up the vermillion rocks, and after a couple of near-falls, he successfully made it to the top.

“Holy shit…” Was the only thing he could manage out, eyes watching over the red, dusty, mountainous terrain with a light blanket of fog sitting on top of it. It was a true wasteland—there was no sign of any life, no sign of water, and definitely no sign of his fellow paladins.

“Well this is just great.” Keith grumbled, unsure as to how he’d get out of this one. With signals down, his lion dead, and stamina low, things weren’t looking so hot. In order to get his lion back up and working, he would need something as potent as a crystal from a Balmera. But from the looks of it, this planet screamed of emptiness.

His equipment suddenly started up, scanning the foreign environment automatically, and then deeming it as: _“Moderate-Oxygen.”_ The only good thing that came out of this was that Keith was finally able to retract part of his visor back into his helmet, freeing his mouth and nose, while remaining it over his eyes.

This planet had yet to be conquered by the Galra Empire from the looks of it, and Keith felt both lucky and unlucky due to that. If there were to be any trace of Galra here, then that would mean they carried quintessence or even crystals—something that Keith desperately needed right now. But if he were to find locals, perhaps they’d have parts to fix his lion. And in his state, he’d much rather run into locals first before any Galra, so he hopped down the wall of rubble and began his search.

  


This planet’s sun was much harsher, and it bared down on Keith with no mercy. Even when it had begun to set, its wrath remained, cooking Keith in his own suit. It made moving forward much more difficult, with every step he took, his body ached for him to find shade and rest. But his mind told him to ignore his body’s commands, to keep going for his own sake. The sooner he’d find locals, the sooner he could get his lion back up and running, and then the sooner he’d be able to find the rest of his teammates.

All of them, Shiro, Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Coran, he needed to find them. Being alone in such a foreign environment stirred something awful in his chest, remembering how it had felt like before this mess, before Voltron, before and after the Galaxy Garrison. The same loneliness that had consumed and tainted his mindset, the same mindset that he had for so long fought against, it crept back like a monster reaching out of its depths.

_Not now. Remain focused, Keith._

Keith hadn’t even realized that his eyes were fixed at his feet until his eyes focused on something quite peculiar. The soil beneath him had caved a little, revealing dark soil, as though a large object had shaved through the tough terrain. He found the sudden change of terrain strange, and when his eyes looked up to trace how far back this went, he froze.

“Shiro…” Keith mindlessly muttered, his eyes falling upon the shape of the Black Lion, laying on its side as though it were asleep. Without a second thought, he darted for it as fast as his feet could take him.

Keith had a hard time stopping his tracks when he reached the Black Lion, colliding with its nose. However, he felt no pain, as he was too occupied on reaching Shiro.

“Shiro! Are you in there?!” Keith called, placing a single hand to the lion’s nose. Other than the emergency door, this was the only way of getting inside. And Shiro wasn’t responding, which only meant that he had done what Keith did, which was leave his lion to go out and search, or he’s still in there. Not knowing his condition, and not recieving any sort of response, made him grow frantic. From the frustration, he balled his hands into fists, pounding them onto the lion. “SHIRO!”

_This can’t be it. THINK, damn it. If Shiro’s in there, and if the emergency door is only accessible from the inside, then...then-_

There were slow footsteps coming from behind him, ceasing his thoughts. Quickly turning around, his eyes laid upon someone he should have immediately recognized.

It was none other than Shiro, walking towards him with _lethal_ intent stamped in those bright yellow eyes. His prosthetic arm followed suit, viciously glowing that dark shade of purple that Keith always despised. He watched how those fingers flexed, how that hand opened and closed until it stretched out flatly, forming his own blade.

_What happened to you?_ Back there, Shiro had gotten out of central command sounding as normal as he always had, despite the understandable stress entangled in his words. At the time, he figured it was only normal due to the difficulty of the mission and the risks of it. But now that they were far away from the Galra’s reach, it begged the question again in his head: _What happened?_

He saw Shiro ready his arm, pointing it at him with no hesitation—his intent only thirsted for blood.

_He wouldn’t…_

A smirk crossed Shiro’s dark expression, as though he had felt Keith’s deep-rooted fear and received a thrill out of it.

Keith gulped with difficulty, not allowing himself to be swayed by him, “Sh-Shiro? It’s Keith, see?” He placed his hand against his chest, as though to confirm it to Shiro that it was, in fact, him and that he was real. But it seemed as though his words crossed Shiro with no effect, his evil state never seeming to wane. If this was some sort of spell he was put under, then it was a strong one.

The arm doused in that manipulative, dark energy came swiping just a fraction of an inch away from Keith’s face. That would have been bad, especially since he knew what that could have done to him, recalling the incident with one of the Druids scorching his hand. Except, no amount of quintessence could have fixed that.

“Shiro!” Keith called out angrily this time as he dodged another hit that came at him the opposite direction. Their bodies were too close, and Keith needed space to better dodge his attacks. Attempting to do just that, Keith stumbled backwards, his torso coming down just in time for Shiro’s arm to simply graze his chest piece.

“Shit! _Agh,_ ” Keith panted, his palms growing sweaty due to _how close that was._ It only then clicked that Shiro wasn’t going to hold back, swinging at him with the intention to actually kill him. Of course, Keith was fast, but Shiro was _faster, stronger_ — _more skilled._

“Shiro– _please!_ Remember, damn it! It’s me, Keith, the red paladin of Voltron, your _friend_ , _your–”_ Keith ceased his sentence, feeling his heart sink at the thought. _No_ , they never got to that point in their relationship, they never got that opportunity because Shiro had never returned from the Kerberos mission. _They never had closure on the matter._  

Nothing had prepared him for this event—Keith couldn’t even muster up the courage to hit back in self-defense, the mere thought paining him. Because even though he was this uncontrollable, blood-thirsty monster, he knew that Shiro, _his Shiro_ , was swimming in there somewhere.

The force that came from Shiro’s foot, _ramming_ into Keith’s chest, was enough to knock the air out of Keith’s system. _Fuck._ Tumbling to the ground, his head was thrown around in his helmet, resulting in seeing nothing but stars. His grainy vision only allowed him to see a rough outline of Shiro, growing larger, fear pricking into him because he couldn’t see clearly if he was coming at him with another blow.

Instead, there were strong, calloused fingers wrapped around his neck, holding him down. Panic ensued as the grip grew tighter, and then it _recoiled_ —the most guttural chuckle escaped Shiro’s parted mouth as he teased him with oxygen before cutting it off again. Shiro’s sadistic expression came into focus, enjoying what he was doing to the red paladin now beneath him.

“Shi...ro…” Keith peered up at Shiro, struggling to keep his composure when his life was slipping through his fingers like sand. His hands flew up to pry the fingers off his neck, a futile move.

It was difficult to stomach Shiro’s current, corrupt state when he was the one who would go out of his way to help others, to protect others, to let others know that everything was going to be okay. Whenever Shiro assured him that things would be okay, _they would be okay._ Now, his mind begged the question, now more desperately than ever: _Will things be okay?_ However, this Shiro was rampant, unforgiving, and raw—lacking sympathy for Keith’s pathetic state. He was everything Shiro was not, and it was so cruel to watch.

A fist full of dark energy landed on the visor, and miraculously, it survived it the blow. It seemed to have aggravated Shiro, due to not receiving the results he wanted— _so he tore Keith’s helmet off as his resolve._

“S-stop...please–” Keith was _begging_ , sounding foreign even to his own ears. But Shiro had him cornered, giving him no more options. Shiro’s hand came up and generated a thick coat of dark energy, preparing to strike.

_This is it, I’m going to die..._

Suddenly, _he was able to breathe again._ Before he could even begin to compute what was happening, first he was sent into a coughing fit, feeling his spit trickling out the side of his mouth. His lungs, his throat, his nostrils, they all felt like they were on fire.

When Keith finally managed to peer up, he saw Shiro’s body was convulsing violently, panic spreading across his face. Before Keith could even make an attempt to reach out to him, Shiro jumped up and stepped back. Eyes peeled wide and hands tightly pressed against each side of his head, looking as though he was trying to hold himself together from _breaking into pieces_.

Watching this unravel, Keith didn’t know what to think or what to do, other than the urge to approach the black paladin. Keith _needed_ to help him, he _needed_ to...

“Stay back!” Shiro ordered— _no growled,_ when he caught wind of Keith approaching his now-cowering body. Those desperate eyes peered at Keith’s own, and they sunk his heart to the lowest pit in his stomach.

This image of Shiro, basically on his knees at this point, _trembling in utter fear_ and _despair painting his face,_ would forever be seared into his mind. He could tell how hard Shiro was trying to _hold on_ , knuckles turning white from his tight grip on the smidge of control he had seized back. The fear of slipping out of control was swallowing him, chewing him up and eating him alive right out in front of him.

Keith firmly pressed his lips together, attempting to stabilize his own trembling. He knew what he needed to do, despite Shiro’s request to stay back. If there were any risks in any of this, it was the risk of allowing Shiro fall back slave to the Galra’s wishes, and under Keith’s watch, he would _not allow_ _that to happen again._

And that was where Keith drew the line; Shiro’s orders were dismissed. After all the countless times Shiro had saved his life, after all the bullshit Keith had put him through, after _this_ , there was no shred of fear inside him when he went in and pulled him in for a hug.

“Stop–!” Shiro said breathlessly, his shoulders heaving as he panted.

Within his grasp, the foul monster twisted and growled at Keith’s gesture, absolutely despising it. At one point, he felt him try and pry him off with rough hands, but despite Shiro’s efforts, Keith held on.

“No, I won’t let you go!” Keith slightly tightened his arms around him, “I won’t...I won’t.... _not again,_ ” His voice cracked, wobbly from the surge of emotions that hit him all at once. It took him back to when him and Shiro were parting their ways, just before the Kerberos mission. All of the things left unsaid by Keith, because he knew how important this mission was to Shiro and how much it meant to him that the Galaxy Garrison had chosen him to be its pilot. Instead of confessing to Shiro, he bid him farewell normally, because he knew that he would need his full concentration whilst on this big mission. At the time, he figured that after Shiro would come home to Earth and celebrate the success of the mission, he’d tell him. Not only did he never get the chance to tell Shiro, but even worse, he thought that he had lost him _forever._

“You aren’t this, damn it! Fight it, and keep fighting it until you can’t anymore! Don’t let them turn you into one of their toys, _please_ , Shiro...Because if you don’t, then...I–” Keith stopped talking by pressing his mouth against Shiro’s shoulder pad, taking in as deep of a breath he could in order to compose himself. He too, was beginning to grow frantic at Shiro’s state, wanting to say anything and everything in hopes that it would bring him back.

Somewhere in between Keith’s spiel and Shiro’s episodic thrashing, the magnetic tension between the two bodies began to cease. Shiro’s breathing began to relax, little by little, tense arms finding themselves around Keith’s torso.

“Keith...” Shiro’s raspy voice hit Keith’s ear, the sudden call of his name dropping his thoughts immediately.

As soon as Keith began to pull back, he was stopped by a strong, cold arm, keeping him there. “Sh-Shiro?”

“I’m…” Shiro couldn't finish his sentence, that strong arm holding Keith quickly becoming limp and his body becoming heavy against him.

“Shiro!” Keith saw that Shiro’s head hung over his shoulder, unresponsive to the call of his name. He repositioned Shiro so that the side of his head would rest against his shoulder, removing the white strands of hair that stuck to his hot forehead. Shiro was _pale as a ghost_ , his eyebrows slightly creased and his mouth left slightly opened, hot air escaping his mouth and hitting Keith.

_He’s extremely warm._ It was a warning sign that made Keith quickly act, forcing Shiro up along with him. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, _not the time, Shiro needs you._ The pain that came from being hunched over was unbearable, but they couldn’t afford to stay out here any longer. He accepted Shiro’s weight pressing onto his back—his hands tightly gripped onto Shiro’s draped arms over his shoulders, dragging his feet back to the black lion slowly.

Keith’s idea was to bring Shiro with him to his lion, holding onto the hope that perhaps his lion was more operational than his own to allow for a normal internal temperature. It was no surprise to Keith that Shiro’s lion looked in much better shape than his own, with only a couple of scratches on its outer shell. Shiro must’ve had a better hand on his lion, not surprising, simply because he was a skillful pilot.

It was as though the black lion had felt Shiro’s presence nearby, thus allowing them to enter through its large mouth easily. That alone was enough to let Keith know that his lion had to be at least _partially-functional_. He could only hope that it was functional enough to send out a signal to Allura or one of the other paladins. They could use the help even more so now that Shiro was running what felt to be a fever.

At least this lion _did_ keep its internal temperatures at a normal rate, the difference between outside and in here being _extremely noticeable._ For one, it wasn’t an oven like his own lion was, a relief and a nice break for the both of them. If one of the two needed a cool down the most, it was definitely Shiro.

It was like carrying a hot, heavy blanket on his back, making him sweat even more underneath his paladin suit. And it worried him, not only his drastically high body temperature, but also dragging him all the way to the inside of his lion simply because it felt as though he was hurting him in the process. Luckily, that was put to an end when he laid Shiro down onto his back, onto the cool, metallic floor.

“Okay...now his suit…” Keith coached himself as he began to carefully remove Shiro’s armor, piece by piece, starting with his gauntlets. In this way, his body would be able to cool down a bit if there was at least direct contact to the cool floor.

Placing his armor to the side, Keith sat down next to the black paladin, watchful for any signs of consciousness. There were none—his breathing was subtle, quiet, and his face had began to relax its muscles, eyebrows returning to normal shape. In all, it simply looked like he was asleep, and it made Keith feel absolutely creepy for watching him. But because Shiro breathing was shallow, he needed to make sure that he wouldn’t just _stop breathing._ The thought of just making sure that Shiro was okay and alive was more powerful than the thought of simply looking creepy, and so he continued to observe him closely.

This vulnerable-state that Shiro was in was nothing in comparison to what he had witnessed moments ago. The heavy, emotional, uphill battle that Shiro must’ve gone through in order to break free from his evil, Galra-controlled state was unfathomable to Keith. He knew it took every atom in Shiro’s body to stop it, something that the Galra had thankfully miscalculated. They hadn’t took in the fact that Shiro was _strong_ naturally, defeating their own version of Shiro, _their puppet_ , successfully.

Keith drew his knees up to his chest, his head feeling slightly heavy all of the sudden. He too, was exhausted—and of course, for very different reasons. His body had survived the harsh crash, he just had his ass handed to him by Shiro, and now after carrying his limp body back here, all of his energy was simply depleted. Resting his head on his knees, there was just enough energy to keep his eyes open on Shiro.

Right now, at this very moment, Keith needed Shiro to wake up, he needed him to be healthy and strong—not lying on the floor, suffering through his feverish heat unconsciously. He recalled, not too long ago, when Shiro called his name, nostalgia hitting his very chest.

A weak smile tugged at the sides of his mouth while tears threatened to escape his eyes.

_Please come back, Shiro._

 


End file.
